Annabel's Story
by reviewgirl911
Summary: What if Annabel never told her family about the rape? What if her sisters went to a cafe and heard Annabel's story at an Open Mic Night? A three-shot in each of the Greene sisters' point of view.
1. Annabel

I walked into the small café with Owen, Clarke, and Rolly. Well, more like forced into the café. My evil boyfriend and friends had somehow convinced me to go to Open Mic Night and tell my story. I had been against the idea; they were the only people who knew what really happened to Will Cash, who was now in jail for raping Emily. I didn't go up on the stand, choosing instead to give a deposition anonymously. I never told my family about any of this, but I did take charge of my life. I quit modeling, which surprisingly didn't destroy my mother, and got my own radio slot. Clarke was my co-host. We patched up our friendship, and I started going out with Owen. Life was starting to look up, which was why I was so against tonight.

We walked towards a small table by the stage. "So we can help if needed," Owen explained softly. I gave him a small smile. There were so many things about Owen I loved, but the biggest thing was his honesty. He could be honest with me without making me feel like crap.

I must've looked worried, so Clarke patted me on the back. "Don't worry. You'll do great," she reassured me. I probably still looked nervous, so she added. "It's not like your family here. No one here knows you."

This did help me calm down a bit. I was afraid of telling my family, especially my mom. I thought it would break her. I didn't want to disappoint anyone. It was why I had always been so nice. But, being nice doesn't guarantee that you'll be happy. It just means you're easy to be taken advantage of. After I'd told Clarke about the rape, Rolly offered to teach a few moves he'd picked up at his job. I'd graciously accepted. Now, I could somewhat defend myself.

Rolly and Owen went to get us coffee after some begging. Clarke turned to me, her expression concerned. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I am." I paused for a second before adding, "I'm going to tell my parents after this." Clarke's jaw dropped. It would've shocked me too.

"Seriously?" I nodded my head again. "Damn, Annabel. Why did you get guts?" she asked me with a laugh. I just mock-glared at her. It was hard to mad at Clarke; she was always making me laugh.

Owen and Rolly came back with our drinks and elated smiles. "Guess what?" Rolly shouted a bit too loud. Clarke smacked him, a signal to lower his volume. She was constantly smacking Rolly. Clarke definitely wore the pants in that relationship. Not that Rolly even cared. He was crazy about her.

"What?" I humored him. Rolly was like a little kid, always getting excited over little things and easily distracted.

"Truth Squad's filling in tonight!" Owen replied excitedly. This was surprisingly good news. Truth Squad's first album was due to drop in a month, and they'd been too busy recording to really play anywhere. Thankfully, the Potato Opus wasn't on the track list. I was also looking forward to seeing Remy; we'd hung out a few times. She was cool.

Clarke gave Rolly a quizzical look. "How didn't you know about this?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. I was a little curious about this myself. Usually Rolly was the first with scoop on Truth Squad. It was his cousin's band, after all.

"Nah, it was a last minute thing," Rolly replied casually. This I could believe: that band was nothing if not unpredictable.

A frazzled-looking, grey-haired man hopped on to the small stage. He motioned for everyone to quiet down. "Okay, so I'm Rick. I'm the manager of this place. This is how Open Mic Night works: when someone's up here, you listen. When they're done, whoever wants to come up here next goes. Enjoy."

First up was an emo-looking girl dressed in head to toe black. That could've been me if Owen hadn't rescued me from my funk. It's funny how things can turn it. The girl started to read some really bad poetry. I mean really, really bad poetry. It was amazing what popped into people's head.

I could hear Clarke groan softly. I felt her pain. This poetry was just plain awful, and anyone with ears could tell. "What's this crap even about?" she whispered to me. I shrugged; I wasn't too sure either.

"Who knows," I responded with a smirk. Owen just shook his head. He always said that a smirk looks out of place on my face. And I'm sure it did.

The girl ended with a crowd booing her off the stage. I didn't join into the booing. It probably took her a lot of guts to get up on that stage. Owen nudged me with his foot under the table. "You're up," he said. I smiled and kissed him. I didn't know what I would do without Owen there to support me.

"Go Annabel!" Rolly shouted as I walked towards the small stage. Clarke just gave me a thumbs up. I got on stage and grabbed the microphone, looking around the café. These were complete strangers, people who would probably never know me. I was safe here. I thought about who I was and who I am now. I thought about that night, Sophie's reaction, and everything that had happened since. It had been a whirlwind, one that taught me life didn't always go my way.

"Hi, I'm Annabel. Annabel Greene," I said. I heard Rolly's snicker and shot him my death glare, which only made him laugh louder. "You might recognize me from really tacky tire ads, but that's not why I'm up here tonight." I stopped for a second. "I'm here to tell you my story. It doesn't have a perfect beginning, and I'm not sure what the ending is yet. But it's all mine." Owen smiled at me, his eyes encouraging me to go on.

"Something you should know about me is that I have two older sisters, two extremes. Kirsten is loud and not afraid of life. If she's upset, everyone knows it. Then there's Whitney. She's quiet and only speaks when necessary. She never gives more than you ask. You have to pry information out of Whitney; she never tells you what's wrong. My sisters say I'm the only one that hasn't been broken, but I feel like the most broken of all us. It all started one early summer night…" I started to tell my story, completely unaware of who was really in the audience.


	2. Whitney

Kirsten and I had been bored that Friday night, her first night back home. Annabel had left dinner early, saying that she was going out with some friends. When our mom asked if Sophie was going to be there, I nearly rolled my eyes. While she wasn't the most perceptive person on the planet, I had hoped she would've figured out that Annabel and Sophie weren't friends anymore. I had figured it out after noticing that she hadn't been over all summer. Then again, both our parents were distracted by my issues most the time. They didn't notice the subtle changes in Annabel from the summer to the fall to the winter, but I did.

The summer Annabel was timid and scared, like a mouse. She never left the house and ignored calls. Something had cracked; I just couldn't tell what. The fall Annabel was my least favorite at first. She was a timid doormat, just a casual observer of her life instead of living it. She went to modeling jobs and came home with a fake smile on her face. Annabel's smiles were never real anymore. She wasn't okay in any sense of the word. My little sister had always been the mystery to us. She wasn't loud and outgoing like Kirsten or quiet and serious like me. Annabel was the nice one, the perfect daughter. Or so we all thought. The winter Annabel was a total 180 from the other two. She was happy, assertive, and fearless. Annabel quit modeling, and to everyone's shock, applied for her own radio slot, which she got. None of us had known she even liked music. Then again, we didn't really know much about Annabel.

We were just walking down a tiny strip mall, laughing and chatting up, when we noticed a small café. Upon further inspection, I realized it was the same place where I had read my story aloud. Now I was taking classes at the local community college and was preparing to move into my own apartment. I had hated Moira during the therapy, but now I kind of appreciated her methods, strange as they were. I wasn't completely okay yet, but I hoped I would be soon. An eating disorder isn't really something you cure; it's something you manage.

Kirsten looked over at the sign and laughed. "Open Mic Night. Want to go listen to some awful poetry?" she asked, trying to keep a semi-straight face. I just smiled and nodded. We stepped into the warm café, which was jammed back full of people. I recognized a few of Annabel's old friends. I was pretty sure she didn't talk to them anymore. I didn't even really know who Annabel was hanging out with these days. We snagged a table in the middle, close enough to the stage that we could see it but they couldn't see us. A few minutes after we sat down, the manager, whose name I remembered to be Rick, approached the stage and explained the protocol for Open Mic Night. "When someone's up there, you listen. When they're done, whoever wants to come up next goes. Enjoy." I smirked at the intro I had heard so many times.

An emo-looking girl got up on the stage, and Kirsten groaned very loudly. I smacked her arm lightly. She stuck her tongue out at me. The girl started to read some really poorly written poetry. It's a miracle no one was throwing fruit at her, though Kirsten looked ready to. "Can't they ban all bad poets from Open Mic Night?" she whispered while glaring at the girl onstage.

"Then no one would go to Open Mic Nights," I replied, my eyes watching the stage. The girl finished and was booed off stage. I didn't boo, but Kirsten did. I couldn't do that; I knew how hard it was to get up on that stage. We all waited for the next person. Finally, a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl walked up to the stage with confidence. A second look confirmed that it was Annabel. Kirsten and I stared at each other in shock. I looked over to the table where she had come from and saw Clarke and that pizza boy, Owen.

"I didn't know she made up with Clarke," Kirsten said in a tone that indicted she was offended.

I shrugged indifferently. "Neither did I." This seemed to shut my older sister up for a few minutes at least.

We were both silent as our younger sister began to talk. "Hi, I'm Annabel. Annabel Greene." The other guy sitting at the table snickered, and Annabel shot him a glare, which only made him laugh harder. He finally shut up when Clarke kicked him under the table then kissed him on the cheek. "You might recognize me from really tacky tire ads, but that's not why I'm up here tonight." She paused for a moment before continuing. The next thing out of her mouth confused and intrigued me. "I'm here to tell my story. It doesn't have a perfect beginning, and I'm not sure what the ending is yet. But it's all mine." I smiled at that. Annabel really needed something that was hers. Everything in our family was shared, except for secrets. Your secrets were your own problem; everyone just had to work around them.

At this point, we were both curious to hear what Annabel's story was. I knew our little sister had undergone a transformation, but I didn't know any details. Kirsten knew the things I had told her and what Annabel had told her.

Annabel's story started out about something we would've never expected: us. "Something you should know about me is that I have two older sisters, two extremes." Kirsten and I couldn't say anything against that. It was pure fact, and we knew it.

"Kirsten is loud and not afraid of life. If she's upset, everyone knows it." I looked over at my older sister, who can only give me a sheepish grin. Sure, Brian is helping her work on that, but Kirsten is always going to be Kirsten.

"Then there's Whitney." I gulped, afraid to hear what Annabel had to say about me. If she wanted to trash me up there, she'd have enough information to do it. "She's quiet and only speaks when necessary. She never gives you more than you ask. You have to pry information out of Whitney; she never tells you what's wrong." There was a bitter edge to her voice there, but I ignored it. Annabel didn't even say the half of it up there.

"My sisters say I'm the only one that hasn't been broken, but sometimes I feel like the most broken of all of us." Annabel stopped for a second, looking over at Owen. His expression was gentle. She continued.

I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about what was coming next. I looked over at Kirsten and saw that she was as concerned as I was. "It all started one summer night. I was late meeting my friends Sophie and Emily at a party because Whitney wouldn't eat her dinner." I noticed how she gritted her teeth while saying Sophie's name. "Eventually I got there and met up with them. Sophie was mad at her boyfriend, so she wasn't in the best mood. I tried to cheer her up, but nothing worked. Emily and I decided to walk around. Someone spilled beer on my leg, so I was looking for a bathroom. I found my friend's boyfriend and pointed him in her direction. I found a bathroom and cleaned it off. We ran into some people we knew and started talking. One of the guys was really drunk so I offered to get him some water. We were heading that way when he wanted to rest. I went downstairs to get the waters when someone said my name." Annabel paused, a tear falling down her face. I could tell this is where it got really bad.

"I thought the guy had just stumbled downstairs, so I asked if it was him. It wasn't his voice; it was another familiar voice. He said, "Annabel, it's just me." I tried to shout don't, but he said, "Shhh." I tried to fight him, but he took my shirt and pants off." Annabel paused for a second, wiping another tear away. Her voice was shaky. I looked over and saw that Owen looked like he wanted to punch someone. "He raped me," Annabel said in a near whisper. Kirsten and I looked at each other in disbelief. Why would anyone want to rape our sweet, innocent little sister? We didn't know but were willing to stick around for the rest of the story.


	3. Kirsten

I looked over at Whitney, who looked just as shocked as I was. I wasn't sure I had heard Annabel right. She couldn't have said raped. Who would want to rape our baby sister. Sure, Annabel's friends could be snotty, just like mine had been, but that didn't give anyone a good excuse. She was always so nice and innocent. I wanted to strangle the bastard who laid a hand on my sister.

Annabel continued, her eyes full of sadness. "To top it off, he was my best friend's boyfriend. After it was over and I was putting my clothes back on, she came in and assumed that I had slept with him. She was really upset and started insulting me. I tried to talk to her, but she just told me to leave her alone." My jaw was practically on the floor at this point. I had never liked Sophie, but I had never suspected the girl to be so cruel.

"After that, I shut everyone out. I didn't leave the house much that summer. I was scared to face my friend and the guy. I isolated myself from the world." Whitney looked like she'd had an euphony. I knew she would explain later, so I turned my attention back to my youngest sister. Annabel laughed sarcastically. "Turns out that came back to bite me. When I went back to school, no one would talk to me. My best friend had turned everyone against me, even the friends I'd had before Sophie. Everyone was whispering about what a slut I was."

She took a deep breathe. "I thought nothing was ever going to be okay. My life was in complete shreds. All my friends were turned against me, and my family was in shamble. My sisters were fighting over Whitney's eating disorder. My parents were too busy trying to fix her to worry about me." I looked over at Whitney, who looked extremely guilty over this. I noticed how Annabel said it without any emotion, like she was stating a fact. She was angry or bitter about it. This just taught me another thing about my youngest sister I didn't know.

No one in our family ever considered Annabel the strong one. Personally, I wasn't sure who the strong one was. Probably Dad. He was the only one of us who ever went into a problem head on. Mom was the weakest, prone to emotional bursts after her mother's death. She was like a fragile china doll, easily broken. Annabel was the only one who always took that into consideration. Whitney and I barely registered that in our heads; we were too busy fighting all the time. I was the loud one, Whitney was the quiet one, and Annabel was the nice one. We never thought about why it was that way. There was nothing else we had ever known. I had never considered that Whitney and I were the reason for that.

"Then I met this guy when I was looking for a place to sit and eat lunch. He was sitting by a tree, and I sat down a few inches away. I knew this guy had a reputation for anger management, but then I thought about how I didn't want people judging me by what I'd heard." She looked over at a really tall who I didn't recognize sitting at the table with Clarke. Whitney seemed to recognize him. "This guy, Owen, was a breathe of fresh air from the rest of my life. He was always honest, no matter what. It was okay to disagree with him. There would be no bruised egos or hurt feelings. I was actually allowed to have opinions." Annabel's voice had a sarcastic edge towards the end of that, but I ignored it. I was too absorbed by her description of this guy Owen. She sounded like a girl in love, like I was with Brian.

"We bonded over music. Owen was a music freak or just enlightened, as he liked to say. His radio station, Anger Management, was eclectic to say the least. Some of the music was good, and some of it was bad. I listened every morning, and he started putting some of my songs onto the show. I felt free with him. My life was wearing me down, while Owen was building me up." She smiled at him. I was now positive that he was Annabel's boyfriend. That definitely explained Annabel's increase in mood.

"But my secrets were starting to catch up with me. The guy showed up at school twice to pick up Sophie or something. I got sick at the sight of him. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on, but I couldn't. I thought the people around me would freak out or leave. That's what always happened. One time he talked to me, and my former best friend freaked out. She started insulting me and pushed me. Something inside me snapped. I pushed her back. She looked shocked and told me to stay the hell away from her and her boyfriend."

"Everything came to a halt when I realized I had feelings for Owen. One day, I went over his house to return his jacket that he had lent me earlier that day at breakfast. I would've waited, but it had his Ipod in it. I had a feeling he'd be missing soon. When I got there, his house was in chaos. His little sister was putting on a fashion shoot with her friends, and Owen was the photographer. The girls knew I was a Lakeview Model, so I was the stylist. I was helping a girl switch outfits when Owen came in. The girl ran out to join the group, and Owen and I were talking. He convinced me to let him take my picture. After being a model so long, I hated having my pictures taken. He showed it to me and said that's what he thought I looked like. The picture wasn't perfect but wasn't bad; it was just me." Annabel looked tentative to get into this next part.

Everything came crashing down one night when I went with Owen and his friend to go see a band at this club. I just lost control and couldn't handle it anymore. I left without telling Owen." She looked over at him once again, his apologetic eyes meeting hers. "The next month was just a blur, like everything before it. I drowned out everything around me with the cds Owen had made me to I could become "enlightened".

"Meanwhile, a friend of mine was also being ostracized by Sophie. She also had reportedly slept with her boyfriend as well. She came to me and told me that she knew what had happened to me now, since it had happened to her. Her lawyer wanted me to testify against him in court, but I was scared." Annabel looked down for a second before meeting the eyes of the audience. "I didn't want to break my family; I thought my mom couldn't handle it. There was too much going on."

Annabel took a deep breathe, like this part was particularly painful. "Kirsten came home for Christmas. She had found a focus in life: filmmaking. Whitney was constantly writing. I was happy for my sisters, but this made me feel uneasy. It made me notice how far I'd fallen."

Whitney and I looked at each other. It had never occurred to us that Annabel had never found her thing either. We'd all figured it was modeling. "So I went to the radio station to talk to him. I asked him why one of the cds he gave me was blank. Turns out it was just a malfunction. I ended telling him everything, beginning to end. He encouraged me to get up on the stand." A look of shame flashed across her face. "But I couldn't go up on the stand, so I just sent a statement instead. He was sentenced for 5 or so years in prison." The whole audience began clapping.

"Everything just started to fall in place. I made up with my old best friend, Clarke." Clarke stood up and took a bow while Annabel laughed. "I started going out with Owen and attending counseling. I even got my own radio slot. I don't talk to my former best friend or the other girl much, but we all have an understanding."

"I came here tonight because I needed to tell my story. Thank you for listening. And listen to WRUS." she said that last part with a smile. Annabel stepped off stage and into Owen's waiting arms. We got a pretty good view of their kissing. I got up and signaled Whitney to follow me. We weaved our way through the crowded café until getting to Annabel's table. Her eyes bugged out when she saw us. "What are you guys doing here?" Annabel asked, barely getting the words out.

"We got bored, and we wanted to see some really lame poetry." I joked with a weak smile.

"Well, that must've been disappointing then," Annabel replied with a smirk.

Whitney shook her head. "No, it wasn't." She stopped before asking the dreaded question. "Why didn't you tell us?" Whitney's voice wasn't angry or judgmental, just worried. If anyone knew what happened when you keep your problems to yourself, it would be her.

I could tell Annabel was choosing her answer carefully. "I was scared to say anything. I thought it would destroy Mom and make everyone else pull away." I noticed a small tear fall down Annabel's cheek. "I didn't want to lose anyone else."

I pulled my sister in for a tight hug. "We would never turn away from you. We're a family. Sisters stick together." Both my younger sisters raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so we haven't really had the best history, but that can change. We can change." I empathized that last part to show how serious I was.

Whitney turned to Annabel. "I'm proud of you," she told her with admiration. "You're stronger than you think. You proved that tonight." Annabel gave her a small smile.

"Thanks," she told Whitney. Annabel turned around and motioned for her friends to come over.

"Hey, Whitney, Kirsten. Enjoy the show?" Clarke asked without a hint of sarcasm. "Yeah, I actually did," Whitney replied. "I was able to get acquainted with the new Annabel."

I turned to Owen and stuck my hand out to him. "Hi, I'm Kirsten. I don't think we've met." I introduced myself.

"No, we haven't. I'm Owen, nice to meet you." he replied with a kind smile.

"Nice to meet you too." I turned to Annabel and whispered, "You have good taste." Whitney merely rolled her eyes at me; I stuck my tongue out her.

We met Owen's best friend and Clarke's boyfriend, Rolly, whose cousin's band was playing. They were called the Truth Squad. While I was dancing up a storm with my younger sisters, I was thankful for this night. I didn't know if Annabel was going to tell our parents or not. I didn't know anything about the future except one thing: We would always be a family, and I'd always look out for my sisters.


End file.
